“Golif.”
“Much virtue in If,” as the Bard of Avon (sometimes referred to as Shakespeare) remarked. “If I hadn’t looked up—” “If I hadn’t tried to kill the ball—” “If I hadn’t sliced—” “If I hadn’t turned my body too soon—” In view of these and other Ifs, lame and impotent explanations (commonly known as alibis), the World’s Greatest Obsession might appropriately be spelled “Golif.”
An account of an aviation stunt on Chesapeake’s strand includes the instructive information that the aviator “began his loops with graceful curves, accurately timed.” Our first thought was that all curves are graceful, but the Short Skirt has negatived that notion; and some of the most ungraceful golf swings we have observed undeniably described curves. The intriguing item in the aviation story was the accuracy of the timing. If we only knew how a sky terrier times his curves we might be able to explain how Mr. Ouimet or Mr. Evans times his’n.
“All Mrs. Gourlay Dunn-Webb’s male ancestors for generations, including her father and mother, have been golf experts and teachers.”
Does this prove, queries J. U. H., that golf un-sexes one?